


you pulled up the blankets to cover my head

by alltears



Series: savior complex [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Depressed Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Depression, F/F, Friendship, Gen, Inquisitor & Dorian Pavus Friendship, Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Mental Health Issues, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Here Lies the Abyss, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Varric Tethras, Recovery, Skyhold (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras is a Good Friend, Wicked Grace (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29515065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltears/pseuds/alltears
Summary: stroud was dead because of her. josephine and dorian weren't helping.enter: varric tethras.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor & Dorian Pavus, Female Inquisitor & Varric Tethras, Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet, Josephine Montilyet/Female Trevelyan
Series: savior complex [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030170
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	you pulled up the blankets to cover my head

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey hey!!! more fics for my natasha trevelyan-verse! varric content is the best content. i hope you enjoy!!
> 
> title from history read by the altogether
> 
> there are some references to the part in 'savior complex' before this, but you don't really need to read it first.
> 
> cw: depression, mourning, PTSD.  
> this is a story of recovery, but that means there are ugly bits. stay safe.

Trevelyan had been staying in her room more and more often as of late. Their trip to Halamshiral would have been exhausting enough without falling into the fade (and then falling back out) just days after. She wasn’t a stranger to the days when the thought of facing the world outside her room ached; her time being the token family disappointment got herself and her bedroom quite acquainted.

Today was no different. The dread of being a disappointment was setting in again. Just yesterday, Trevelyan had laughed with The Iron Bull and Krem in the tavern, made plans for a trip to Val Royeaux with Dorian, and baked cookies with Josephine as a present for Sera. She was supposed to be doing better. She thought she  _ had  _ been doing better.

Then night fell, and she closed her eyes, and there was Stroud’s face staring back at her, there was Stroud nodding in acceptance of death, there was Stroud charging at the nightmare and  _ dying _ .

Josephine had stayed in her quarters a few times - which was  _ marvelous  _ \- but Trevelyan tried to avoid it if she could. As much as she pined for Josephine’s presence when she felt especially lonely and frightened in the darkness, she wasn’t ready for her to fret over her insomniac tendencies, and she especially didn’t want Josephine to sacrifice sleep to keep her company or calm her from a nightmare. Josephine was already stressed as is.

Trevelyan loved her friends truly and dearly, with all of her being. They cared for her in return, she knew, but she didn’t know how to face them at times. As much as they liked to pretend they were acting normally, they were doing nothing of the sort. Since Dorian found her on Skyhold’s barricades, Josephine and Dorian had both been tiptoeing around her. Josephine had taken to asking Trevelyan if she was alright about twelve times before accepting her answer; Dorian joked as usual, but whenever he thought she wasn’t looking, he’d furrow his brow and study her body language.

Curse them.  _ All _ her friends knew something was wrong, even if they didn’t know what. When they last spoke, Blackwall gave Trevelyan a gentle pat on the arm in farewell, leaving Trevelyan to stand idly, alone, trying to recall if she had ever seen Blackwall touch another person nonlethally. Leliana, Sera, Bull,  _ Cole _ \- they were all catching on. It was suffocating. Yes, maybe she needed help, but dancing around the issue and acting as though she might shatter just made things worse.

So, excuse her for wanting to be where no one else would be for the day.

That said, she did need to consume food for fuel, so she had to leave at some point. She’d waited until late at night, long after anyone would be loitering in the hall, so she could sneak to the kitchens and back uninterrupted.

Trevelyan took an awkward, steadying inhale through her nose, and pushed open the door to the main hall from her quarters.

There they were.

Josephine was scribbling onto parchment at the table outside her office, Dorian was reading a large, dusty book under the light of the torches on her throne, and - Varric was standing at the fireplace, watching the flames.

Josephine and Dorian both jerked up at the sound of wood scraping cobblestone. Josephine placed her quill in its matching jar of ink and stood, smiling softly at Trevelyan where she had frozen. Dorian took a much more nonchalant approach, dropping his eyes back down to his book on - Tevinter dragons, it seemed.

“Apologies, Lady Inquisitor. We told him not to sit on your throne, but he said he had special permission,” the guard at the garden entrance announced in a thick Orlesian accent. 

“Oh, it’s - it’s fine. It’s just a big chair,” she sniffed and crossed her arms to pull her dark shawl snug around her arms, and shifted her weight for something to do. She wasn’t expecting quite the audience, and now in her bare feet and plain nightgown, she felt underdressed for the occasion.

“Natasha,” Josephine greeted at last. “Good evening. How are you?” She crossed the floor to embrace Trevelyan, clasping her elbows lovingly and kissing her cheek.

“I’m… fine, just going to get food,” Trevelyan narrowed her bushy eyebrows and stepped out of Josephine’s touch. “What are you doing here?”

“I was finishing up a few letters, is all. Dorian was just reading. That’s all,” Josephine’s smile never wavered, but guilt filled her eyes.

“Have you heard of the ‘Terrible Tevinter Frostback’?! You’re going to lose your  _ mind _ . More than you already have, of course,” Dorian quipped. Josephine was quick to shoot him a glare unnecessary to Dorian, as instant regret flashed across his face once the words left his mouth. He snapped the book shut and stood, already raising his hands in apology.

“It’s fine. It’s funny.”  _ Well, it was!  _ “You should both go to sleep. Seriously.”

Dorian and Josephine exchanged a look as he approached them.  _ When did they get that close? _

“We’re just… Worried, you know,” Josephine explained.

“We missed you today. I overheard Leliana talking about some rather titillating information regarding Sera and that enchanter, what was her… Dagna. I had no one to tell! Well, I told lots of people. But, I wanted to tell  _ you _ .”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Trevelyan felt as guilty as they both looked for ruining their day inadvertently. 

“No, don’t apologize!” Josephine sighed, exasperated. “We’re doing this all wrong, aren’t we… Natasha… What can we do for you?”

Trevelyan took Josephine’s shoulder in her right hand and Dorian’s in her left and squeezed once, twice.

“You can get some rest,” she instructed. Dorian grimaced.

“I… Alright, Natasha. Goodnight, my love,” Josephine resigned. Trevelyan released them, and Josephine retreated in the direction of her quarters. Dorian - and the sour look on his face - remained.

“Spit it out, Dorian.”

“There’s nothing. Just… you’re my best friend, you know that, Natasha?”

“I do.”

“Good. That’s… good. I don’t know how to help you,” Dorian squeezed his eyes shut, and for one terrifying moment, Trevelyan was sure he was going to cry. “I’ll leave you. Goodnight, Nat.”

“Goodnight, Dorian,” he still showed no signs of movement. With a fond sigh, Trevelyan wrapped her arms around Dorian’s chest. The hug was reciprocated instantly and fiercely. Dorian buried his face in her untamed hair and breathed, slowly, calmly. As quickly as it had begun, Dorian pulled back and left for his room before Trevelyan could get a good look at his face.

Back to the kitchens, then.

“Here for food, right?” Trevelyan jumped at the voice. She’d completely forgotten Varric was in the room in Dorian and Josephine’s doting. 

“Maker! Yeah, yes,” Varric turned from the flames and beckoned her over with a nod of his head.

“I’ve got an apple with your name on it, Rosy. C’mon.” What did she have to lose? As she walked to his hangout, Varric pulled a red apple from his pack and began to slice it with a pocket knife. “Take a seat.”

She did as she was told, flopping down in a stiff wooden chair that was probably older than both her and Varric combined. They sat in silence, Varric cutting the apple as evenly as he could with his rather stubby fingers, and Trevelyan getting lost in her thoughts staring at the flames. Is that why Varric did that so often? You just… escape from the world when you look at them?

Varric pushed the apple slices to her and pocketed the knife. Trevelyan took a tentative bite and covered her mouth with her hand as she chewed.

“Hawke had to make a lot of tough calls in her day,” Varric started. Trevelyan paused mid-chew.

“...What?” She asked, muffled around a mouthful of fruit. Varric smirked, his eyes bright and understanding.

“Hawke. The Champion of Kirkwall. Surely, you’re familiar?” He teased. Trevelyan rolled her eyes and finished her slice. “This apostate, Anders… They were friends. Had been for about a decade, when he decided to blow up the chantry.”

Trevelyan knew about that, of course, but she hadn’t known Hawke was friends with the culprit. Maybe she should read Varric’s book, after all…

“She had to make the choice. Kill Anders, run him out of Kirkwall, or forgive him completely. Now, I was ready to back her no matter what, and Maker knows Fenris and her were so close, he wouldn’t really care, but our friends all had opinions. Hawke was an apostate herself, you know, so the decision didn’t come easy.”

Trevelyan pursed her lips and drummed her fingers on the table. “What did she do?”

Varric hesitated.

“She killed him,” Trevelyan found herself gasping. “He was too dangerous. Even now, it drives her mad. You could ask her yourself, if you wanted. She wouldn’t mind.”

Trevelyan slowly nodded, then blinked down at her hands on the table.  _ The  _ Champion struggled with her decisions, too. It was comforting to know, she supposed.

“Why’d you say that?” She softly asked. Unable to meet Varric’s knowing eyes, she followed the lines on the wood she traced with her finger.

“You’re dealing with the same thing. I was in the fade with you. You offered yourself instead, numerous times. You cried when you said his name, and you didn’t even know the guy. You had to make a tough call, and you can’t forgive yourself,” Varric shook his head. “Seeing Hawke go through the worst of it was enough for one lifetime. I’m not letting you do it, too.”

What was she supposed to say to that? ‘Thank you’? She wasn’t about to tell him that he was the reason she spared Hawke. That would just unleash blame on his part.

“Okay,” she decided on, her voice sounding raw and unnatural to her own ears.

“Those freaks aren’t helping much, either,” Trevelyan met his eyes at that, raising an eyebrow in question. “Ruffles and Sparkler? They’ve been outside your door for hours. Sometimes, one of them went up to knock, and then changed their mind. They’re quite the sight,” Varric chuckled.

Trevelyan groaned and leaned back in her chair. “I figured as much. I know they mean well, and I’m grateful for them, but-”

“-They don’t get it, so how can they help. Yeah. I’ve heard that one before.”

“Yeah.”

“They don’t need to understand it all to help. If gossiping with Leliana makes you feel happier, even just for a few hours, that’s helping.”

“That… makes sense. Damn you,” they quietly laughed. “I wish they didn’t fret over me so much. I don’t know how to have a conversation with anyone, ‘cause they just tell me they’re worried about me. How’s that supposed to take my mind off things?” Varric nodded. 

“You need to talk to someone about Stroud. A healer, or something. It’s got you fucked up,” Varric said, bluntly. “Ignoring it will make it worse. But, there are always times we just need to get away from our own heads. You can come find me, then, and I’ll teach you Wicked Grace. Sound good?”

“I know how to play Wicked Grace,” Trevelyan grinned and leaned forward. “I could play you under the table, Tethras.”

“Yeah? Wanna bet?” Varric smirked, pulling a deck of cards out his pack.

Trevelyan felt lighter than she had in days.

“Bring it on.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!! leave a kudos and a comment if you can, they make me feel good :)
> 
> tumblr: @alltears  
> twitter: @trobed_


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